


Vests, Glasses, and Cats

by CeleryLapel



Series: Poor Judgment [2]
Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Cats, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lots of denial, Poor judgment, Sexual Tension, lots of shrieking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-02
Updated: 2016-07-02
Packaged: 2018-07-19 17:33:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7371139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CeleryLapel/pseuds/CeleryLapel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Britta and Duncan have an eventful evening</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vests, Glasses, and Cats

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place between Chapters 23 and 24 of “Everything is Better, Part Two.” Timeline: post-Christmas 2010-2011.
> 
> *Can be read as a stand-alone piece if you’re not following the larger story.

“Here. Have another.” Britta slid a shot glass over to Duncan as they sat the bar of the Dirty Cowgirl.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m drinking that. It’s yellow. Looks like urine.”

Britta scrunched up her face in disgust. “Ugh! So does _beer_. This is yummy, though. Drink up.”

Duncan stared at the small glass and shook his head. “Nope. I have to draw the line here, Miss Perry. I don’t drink weird drinks.”

“Like cranberry vodka shots?”

“Precisely.”

She smirked. “You restrict yourself so much. It’s like those tight little vests of yours aren’t doing a good job of keeping you reigned in. Like maybe you can’t _trust_ yourself…”

Duncan interjected, “Can it, Perry. I’m not falling for your head games.”

Britta frowned. “Head games? I’m not the one who’s a shrink.”

“But you’ve been very forthcoming with the fact that you _want_ to be a shrink. And I have my suspicions you are using me in some tortured psychological experiment.”

“Experiment?” Britta’s eyes widened slightly. She took out her flip phone.

“But it won’t work because I’m onto you.” He picked up the glass and downed the shot.

Britta smirked as she typed something into her phone. “You are? And what exactly is my evil plan?”

Duncan nodded. “To make me think you want to seduce me.”

She stilled and then made a gagging gesture. “Ugh! That’s _disgusting_. Why would I do that?”

“I know perfectly well it’s _disgusting_. I said you want me to _think_ you want to seduce me.”

“But I don’t really?”

He slammed his fist on the bar. “Of course not. You know perfectly well you could do much better than me.”

Britta stiffened. “I could?”

“Absofuckinglutely. And you know it. You’re hot. And so you toy with me, making me think you want me, but you know perfectly well it’s impossible due to _ethics_.”

“You’re not my anthropology professor right now. We’re on winter break.”

Duncan shuddered as he held up two fingers for more shots. He mouthed to the bartender “ _the yellow ones”_ and then turned to face Britta again stating, “I’ll be your professor again in January. And again, I think you’re perfectly aware of this and said that just now to mess with me.”

“Why would I want to mess with you?”

“Because you want to see if you can modify my behavior.”

He tossed back the new shot, as did Britta.

Britta slammed her glass on the bar and looked down for a few moments. She then raised her eyes to his and asked, “Did you really mean it when you said I’m hot and could do way better than you?”

Duncan pulled at his tie and gulped. “Of course. Women like you are never interested in me. So the only conclusion I can come up with is that you’re viewing me as some sort of experiment.”

Britta rolled her eyes. “I hang out with _Pierce_. Why wouldn’t I want to hang out with you?”

“Touché, Miss Perry. And we both know you’re way too smart for that study group. Actually, all of you ladies are. Mrs. Bennett and Annie get As…”

“I don’t.”

“But you have a curious mind. And you’re passionate. And you’re kind.”

“Kind? How do you figure? You’re accusing me of _torturing_ you.”

“You take in severely deformed and/or seriously ill cats.”

Britta looked down and began running her finger over the rim of her beer glass. “You like cats? Jeff told me you’re not allergic, douchebag. Apparently you spend time with his mom’s cats.”

Duncan placed a hand on his chest. “I admit I have a fondness for cats. And I admire a woman who cares for animals.”

Britta’s eyes widened as she continued to stare at her beer.

Duncan continued in a mumble, “Even if she’s too old for me.”

Britta squinted her eyes in confusion. “I’m not too old for you. You’re older than me!”

He cleared his throat. “Sorry. I was thinking of someone else.”

Britta winced.

Duncan droned on, “Now a woman who loves animals, especially the unconventional ones, now she’s someone special. She deserves to be treated with respect. But see, sometimes a woman like that is too kind hearted for her own good. And she takes in the wrong kind of _people_ , and they mistreat her. She needs to be treated well.” He jabbed his index finger down on the bar.

Britta nodded as she resumed eye contact. “And what kind of a person are you?”

He grimaced. “Not that great, to be honest. Especially when I’m drinking. You see, that’s why I don’t drink around her anymore.”

“Who?”

He shrugged and looked away. “Doesn’t matter. The heart wants what it wants. But alas.”

“There’s someone you don’t drink in front of? Like ever? And what is that like? What are _you_ like then?”

Duncan shot a look up at her. “Why so many questions? I can’t see what this has to do with whatever experiment you’re running.”

“ _I’m_ not running any experiment. I told you…”

Suddenly Garrett came running up to them. He stopped at Britta’s side, gasping for breath.

Duncan stared at him in surprise and remarked, “Garrett! You’re a sight for sore eyes. You missed our meeting this afternoon.”

Garrett shook his head violently and then shoved a notebook at Britta, ignoring Duncan completely.

Duncan hunched his shoulders. “Hey…”

Britta looked down at the notebook and frowned. She then wrote something down and showed it to Garrett.

She said, “Go home.”

Garrett’s eyes bulged almost out of his head. He gasped and then shrieked, “I can’t, you know that! We have to stop this. Abort! Abort!”

Britta shook her head and gave him a weak smile. “I can handle the rest.”

He continued to shriek, “It’s contamination! I saw the foot!”

Duncan frowned and glanced down to see Britta’s boot on his leg.

Britta touched Garrett’s arm and smiled. “Garrett! Let’s talk over here.” She got up and yanked him over to the other side of the room.

Duncan watched them, feeling slightly dizzy, as he continued to sip his beer. He could see Garrett gesturing wildly, saliva escaping from his mouth in the form of drool and spit as he responded to Britta.

Suddenly Garrett held up a small digital recorder and shoved it in Britta’s hand. He then tossed the notebook at her and screeched something non-intelligable.

Britta yelled, “Hey!”

Garrett stormed out of the bar.

Britta scowled and took a deep breath as she placed the recorder in her pocket. She then walked back over to Duncan and plopped herself on a barstool.

“Sorry about that. It’s Garrett, you know?” She shrugged as she tossed the notebook on the bar and gripped her beer.

Duncan nodded. “Oh I know. That boy is increasingly spastic these days. I don’t know what’s wrong with him.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How much did you drink while I was away?” She picked up the notebook and took out a pen.

“Away? Were you away?”

She sighed. “Okay, we should get you home. We’re done for tonight.”

“I’m not telling you where I live.”

“Well since you’re not allergic to cats, you can either tell me where you live or come back to my place. I’m not making the mistake of taking you to Jeff’s again.”

“I’m not going back to your place, Miss Perry. Even if you do have adorable cats.”

“You think cats are adorable?” She placed the notebook in her bag.

He stared at her and nodded vigorously.

She launched herself at him.

Duncan grabbed at her hair with one hand, her ass with the other, and they groped drunkenly and awkwardly at the bar for several minutes before they were asked to leave. 

******************

“You are disgusting! Using my love of cats to fondle me in public!” Britta pointed at the air as she yelled at Duncan outside of her apartment door.

“Fondle?!? You threw yourself at me!”

“And you can’t even kiss right! God, the tongue…”

“Don’t remind me! I should know there’s something wrong with the women who like me! Nothing good ever comes from it, I say!”

“You said I was smart! And passionate! And kind! _I’m not crazy_!”

“You must be!”

“Says the guy in the vest!”

“What’s wrong with my vest?!?”

Britta jabbed a finger into his chest. She scrunched up her face as she yelled, “You know what? I admit it! I was running an experiment on you! That’s all this was! And then it worked! You kissed me!”

“You kissed me!”

“You are _disgusting_!”

“I’m perfectly aware I’m _disgusting_! I live with myself every day!”

Britta groaned. “Ugh! I’m going home!”

“Isn’t this your home? Or where the fuck are we?”

Britta fumbled with her keys and opened the door.

Duncan turned to leave.

“Well are you coming in or what?” 

***************************

“Here, have another.” Britta handed Duncan the bottle. They were sitting on the floor in her living room as a cat crawled over Duncan’s leg.

“How many cats do you have anyway?” He took a swig and passed it back to her.

Britta shrugged. “Three?”

“Three question mark?”

She mumbled, “One isn’t always here. He comes around.”

Duncan hiccupped. “I like a woman who likes animals. Shows she’s kind.”

“You said that already.”

“Said what?”

“That you think I’m kind. That’s one of the nicest things anyone’s ever said to me, jerkface.”

“Really? Now I don’t believe that.”

Britta sighed as she leaned back against the bottom of the couch. “They all just make fun of me. You wouldn’t know about that.”

Duncan raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“You’re a professor. And a psychologist. You’re above all of that. You have that office with all of those books. And you have those glasses.”

“You like my glasses? I thought you were mocking me.” He touched his frames thoughtfully while petting a cat with his other hand.

Britta nodded. “I want some dark rimmed glasses. Maybe then the rest of them would take me more seriously.”

He gulped before he ventured, “I take you seriously.”

Britta reached for one of the cats but it slinked away. She frowned.

“I have a confession.”

Duncan turned from his attentions on the cat, “Hm?”

Britta sighed as she grabbed her bag. She rummaged in it and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Here.” She shoved it toward him.

Duncan took the paper from her and began reading it. He frowned as he read aloud, “A consent form?”

“See. You signed it. Actually you wrote it. Well, Garrett and I helped a little, but you know how to do these things. Garrett witnessed your signature.”

“Bloody hell. That’s my signature.”

“I said you signed it.”

“What is this for?” He continued to let his wobbling eyes skim down the form.

“The experiment.”

His eyes shot up to meet hers. “You mean?”

She nodded. “Yes. Your experiment.”

He looked down again and resumed reading. “It says I’m studying myself. Drunk versus sober. And with varying quantities and types of alcohol.”

“I know it sounds weird. And you told us you might not remember. So we were supposed to play along. And take notes. I’ve been getting you wasted and Garrett has been observing. I have a mic.” She held up a mic from her shirt pocket. “It’s not on anymore, by the way.”

“Well that’s bloody good.” He continued to read.

“And this was supposed to teach me about research. I’ve been graphing the data. We were going to give it another couple weeks before the debriefing.”

Duncan let out a long sigh. “How come I don’t remember any of this?”

“You were drunk when you designed the whole thing. Like really, really, really, wasted. Same when you signed the form.”

“Well that’s not ethical then.”

“You said it was necessary, though. You didn’t _say_ exactly, but I think you’ve been trying to motivate yourself to stop drinking. You said you wanted us to debrief you when you were sober and then show you the data.”

“This sounds like bloody Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.”

Britta shrugged. “Kind of. So anyway, that’s why you keep running into me. You gave me your itinerary of when you usually go to certain pubs. And that’s also why I’ve been more sober. I wasn’t supposed to get as drunk as you. In order to keep objectivity.”

Duncan laughed. “Oooh boy! But you’re more than a little bit drunk, Miss Perry.”

“Duh.”

“Why did shrieky boy flip out?”

Britta rolled her eyes. “He says we’re _flirting_. Can you believe that?”

Duncan gasped. “You kissed me.”

“He said that _before_ I kissed you.”

“I see.” He frowned in puzzlement.

“Garrett says we need to stop the experiment.”

Duncan muttered, “Well technically it’s more of an observational study. Not a bona fide experiment.”

“A what?”

“Never mind. We can discuss later when we’re sober.”

“So I haven’t been trying to seduce you. You were wrong about that.”

“Then why does it feel like that’s what you’ve been doing?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe you like me or something? Reading into things? Like the pencil thing. I swear that’s not what I meant. I was just thinking.”

“Oh.”

Britta continued, rolling her eyes, “And then I’ve been carrying a bunch of condoms with me, and _Annie_ thinks that means something, but again, that was part of it all. I’m supposed to make sure you don’t do something stupid. Although you did tell me it was _highly_ unlikely that I would need to give you condoms.”

Duncan studied her through his blurry eyes. “You know what? I believe you.”

She nodded smugly. “Thank you.”

“And the kiss?”

She waived her hand in the air. “Just a momentary lapse. I’m drunk. Whatever.”

Duncan sighed as the cat he had been petting scurried away.

He remarked wistfully, “You have nice cats. Good for you. I wish I had a pet. But I don’t know if I can trust myself to take care of it. Pets need good people to take care of them.”

Britta’s stared at him, her eyes softening. “You think I’m a good person.”

“Of course.”

She pushed herself closer to him and touched his shoulder.

“Miss Perry, we can’t…”

“Call me Britta.”

“No, um…”

“Actually on second thought, call me Miss Perry. It sounds sexy with your accent.”

“Sexy? You think I’m sexy?”

“Naaahhhhh….”

“Stop mocking me.”

She mumbled, “You’re _disgusting_.” She continued to lean in.

Duncan stopped her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Er, um…do you want me to kiss you again?”

“Sure.”

“Are you?”

“Come here, Professor Little Vest.”

They began to kiss decidedly less awkwardly than their first attempt at the bar earlier. After a few moments, Britta laughed and stood up. “Let’s go to my bedroom.”  
  
“Bedroom?”

“Let’s class it up. While I’m not a high maintenance girl, I draw the line at doing it on the floor with my _cats_ watching us.” She turned around and left the room.

Duncan sat open mouthed for a moment before rising and following her.

“Fine, but I swear if you’re running a head game with me I’m going home.” 

**************************

Britta stirred as the sunlight fell across her bed. She mumbled some curse words and shielded her eyes, in the process wacking her hand into a warm body beside her.

Her eyes flew open and she came face to face with Ian Duncan, his eyes also wide open in shock.

Or at least she thought they were wide open. They seemed awfully small. She squinted for a second, adjusting to the bright light.

_Oh that’s right, he’s not wearing his glasses._

She glanced over to the bedside table to see his black frames safely placed there.

_Thank God._

She turned her eyes back to his. She scowled. “Well what the fuck are you looking at?”

“Um, Miss Perry. This is awkward.”

“What’s awkward?”

“You know, um, us sleeping together.”

She shoved his shoulder and groaned. “Oh please, you’re acting like we had _sex_.”

His faced pinkened as he began to stutter, “Er…uh…um….I’m so sorry about that. I must apologize. I think I had too much to drink.”

“Because you couldn’t get it up?”

He winced.

“Look, dude, it’s okay. No worries. It happens.” She shrugged and rolled over to grab his glasses. She picked them up gingerly and then turned back to face him.

Duncan cleared his throat. “I want you to know I can usually um, _perform_. I regret that I was not able to give you the focused attention you deserved.”

“Well you could have done other things, jerk. But you were too drunk for that too.”

“Look, I…”

“Put these on.” She didn’t wait but slid the glasses back onto his face. She smiled. “That’s better.”

He sputtered, “I must apologize, if I hadn’t been drinking so much.”

She shrugged. “It’s fine.”

Duncan only had one thought as he sat up in the bed.

_I need to give up drinking._

**Author's Note:**

> Something’s wrong with me.
> 
> Think of this as taking place shortly before Asian Population Studies. If you rewatch, keep this piece in mind.


End file.
